


Intertwined

by snufflesfoot



Series: Drabbles (aka My Tears) [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 16:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1786342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snufflesfoot/pseuds/snufflesfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They cannot be separated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intertwined

merlin is made of magic, it is not a part of him, but is him, wholly and innately.  he is every raindrop in a monsoon and every unrelenting blaze of sun in the desert, the quiet fury of an avalanche and the raging peace in the eye of the storm.  he is the child of earth and sea and sky, and the earth cracks for none but itself, the sea swallows all in its path, and the sky looms over every mortal, but their son, their son bows to one, serves one for all eternity, will walk only by his side til the end of all days.

arthur loves his people more than he loves himself.  his every breath unfurls life a bit further, warms the callous land a bit more.  he needs their laughter to wake in the morning and their content to sleep at night.  he holds its pulse in his hand, fingers curled around against the darkness outside and arthur, dear arthur, he could be stripped of rank and royalty, have everything torn from him, and still he would find something more to give of himself, even if he has to rip it away, still warm and beating.

and so the boy with the wide eyes pulls the broken one from the frigid cold and he smiles less and less and the foolish soldier pulls the lonely curiosity away from too close to the flames while his eyes get harder and harder and somewhere along all these nudges and shoves and fire and steel the little boys get stuck together and after all these goodbyes to father and mother and kin and friend, if they have to say one more, they swear they'll burst and so they don't, not ever, not even when the scruffy desolate boy screamed and howled on the shores of a misty lake or when the resigned man stared out into its quiet waters with quiet desperation or when the graying old one with a graying long beard marches past the dampness every day without fail.

magic has always been in the heart of camelot


End file.
